Page 13 of Wind and Water (Reign of the Witch Queen #2)

Unease makes its way into my gut. “I don’t like the feel of this.”

“No. It’s evil.” She seems calm and determined to get closer.

I splash forward, jogging to catch up with her and take her hand. “What is Atlantis?”

“A story about a continent that sank into the Atlantic Ocean. In some of the tales, the Atlantans continue to live beneath the water. No one has ever found real evidence that Atlantis exists.” While she doesn’t pull away from my touch, there is no warmth or feel to her skin.

“The lost lands are real enough. I’ve never seen them, but I know that no one has ever reported a giant tower protruding from the water.” I try to squeeze her fingers. “I don’t like that I can’t feel you physically.”

“But you feel me, right? In my head, I know we’re still lying on the couch in the little house, but my heart feels you here with me in my dream.

” Taking her gaze from the tower, she stares into my eyes.

There’s worry and fear along with sorrow.

I see nothing of the undercurrent of joy that is always within Wren.

“I feel you as if your heart beats inside mine. What will we find there?” I point.

“Momma, I think. Though she wasn’t there before. At least I didn’t have this driving feeling that I had to save her there the last time I had this dream.” She breaks into a run, lifting her knees high to get through the water without falling.

“I see you, human.” Venora’s voice cuts through the air. The sky darkens. At the very top of the tower, she stands with her hands raised. Black lightning shoots from her fingers across the sky. She looks down at us and focuses her rage. “Give yourself to me, and I’ll spare the woman you seek.”

Lightning hits the water, making it erupt violently. It forms a wall blocking our way.

Letting go of my hand, Wren lifts her hands. Wind whips around, blowing her curly hair out from her head. The water whips away from our feet, revealing the skulls of those who perished when the land was lost. She screams and forces her magic up the tower.

Venora’s rage is evident as the lightning shoots toward us.

As the wind reaches the top, the witch queen rises awkwardly. Her power shifts wildly.

A shard hits Wren, and I pull her back.

I gasp into consciousness. Half sitting, the weight of Wren against my side and shoulder keeps me from shooting to my feet.

She clutches at me. Her eyes closed, words stuck in her chest and throat as she thrashes.

“Wren, wake up. It’s a dream. Wake yourself up.” I shake her shoulder and kiss her forehead.

Her eyelids pop open. “Oh. The dream again. And you were there. Momma is in that tower. That monster has my mother.”

Gently rubbing her back, I move us to sit. “You don’t know that. It was a dream, and while parts of it might be real, other pieces might be conjured by your imagination and fear.”

Turning to face me, a crease forms between her eyes. “You were there this time. Not before.”

“I was there. I saw what you saw.” It’s not possible, but I traveled into her dreams.

“How did you do that?”

It would be simpler if I had a magical method. “That is magic beyond me, sweetheart. I have never walked in another’s dreams or read anyone’s mind.”

“You got into Wally’s mind.”

How do I explain this? “I only made a suggestion and pushed it into him. I didn’t read his thoughts or invade his privacy. I don’t have those gifts and would be shy to use them if I did.”

“Do you fear what you might find in my thoughts?” She rises and looks out the window into the predawn darkness.

Standing behind her, I wrap my arms around her. “It is an invasive and personal thing to be inside someone’s mind. I could hear your heart beating all around me.”

“That must have been unsettling.” Her voice is full of empathy, laced with the residual fear from the dream.

“It should have been.” I felt at home, and maybe that’s even more terrifying. “I don’t know how I came to walk into your dream, but I’m glad I was there to see what you saw and perhaps define a location. It might be best if we avoid the lost lands if we can.”

“My mother is there.” There isn’t a shred of doubt in her voice.

“I saw no sign of Birdie, did you? Venora’s threat may have been in vain. Besides, it was still a dream. The interaction from her side wasn’t real. Or do you think she puts these thoughts in your mind?” Now that is a sobering thought.

When she turns, her chest is pressed to my body, and she cranes her neck to look me in the eyes. “I don’t think so. Is that even possible? I’ve been having these dreams that come to pass for most of my life. Has she been in my head for decades?” She shivers.

Rubbing her arms from elbow to shoulder, I pull her into a hug and breathe in her flowery scent. “I don’t believe the witch queen knew anything about you or the other prophesied before. I’m not even certain she knows now.”

“So, what do we do?” She presses her cheek to my chest and wraps her arms around my waist.

This is comfortable. It’s selfish, but I wish I could forget duty and the needs of so many and stay like this with Wren for the rest of my life. Impossible. I kiss the top of her curls. “Let’s eat those sandwiches Birdie knew we would need and go find her.

Once we’ve broken our fast, I search for weapons and manage to find several knives and a child-size sword hidden beneath Jax’s clothes in the back of a closet. Likely, he meant to keep them out of his boys’ hands when he was not present to train them.

I take them all and tuck the knives into my sack. The sword is small but sharp and well-balanced. It would be better if I had the time to teach Wren how to use it, but for now, she’s wise enough to know the hilt from the pointy end. “Strap this on in case you need to defend yourself.”

With wide eyes, she buckles the belt low on her waist. “I have no idea how to use a sword.”

“Hopefully, you won’t need it.” Packs slung over our backs and armed for whatever may come, we leave the safety of Serena and Jax’s home.

“We have a bit of a walk ahead of us. Up to the portal rise and then across to the forest. It will take most of the day.” I have never wished for a horse more.

Not only would it save us half a day, it would be an added layer of protection for Wren.

Adhar caws as we step outside the house. She takes flight and heads west but never too far ahead.

At the top of the rise, five centaurs stand in a row, all armed with bows and arrows, swords and spears, but they’ve not drawn their weapons.

The raven stands on a rock as if waiting patiently for us to catch up. While Adhar seems perfectly at ease, I’m less trusting.

Keeping my body between them and Wren, it takes an act of pure will not to draw my sword. Being outnumbered means diplomacy is in order. In a fight, I can’t beat five beasts who are built to trample and are three times my weight. “We were just coming to find you in the forest.”

The one in the center has wavy black hair and dark skin from the waist up.

The rest of him is a pitch-black horse. His back is as tall as I am, with the man half of him towering over me.

He cocks his head. “Were you, elf? It is never wise for elves to invade the centaurs’ home.

” Even with the obvious warning and harsh tone, he’s more cordial than I would have expected.

Having never seen a centaur in person before, I’m awed by their magnificence. “I agree, but our needs are so great, it was the only choice.”

Wren steps beside me. “It would not have been an invasion. We’re searching for someone. I am Wren Martin. My mother, Birdie, is lost.”

The five centaurs speak together in muffled tones, and the bits I can hear are in their own language and foreign to me.

Reaching out, I take her wrist and pull her close. “You shouldn’t talk to them. We don’t even know whose side they’re on.”

She shrugs.

The beasts are magnificent. I couldn’t have imagined the majesty of these creatures.

Two of the centaurs are similar in looks, with blond hair and pale-cream hair on the horse.

They must be brothers as their facial features are so similar.

The final two are equally fierce looking with scowling faces, but stand perfectly still.

They may be half horse, but they share none of the skittishness of their animal cousins.

The central one steps toward us. “I am Corell of the Western Centaurs.” He bows. Pointing to the two centaurs to his left, he says, “This is Jadar and Belloc.” He gestures to his right. “These young ones are Wellon and Pallon.”

The other four bow as well. Their eyes are red but not glowing as the fables say. I nod my head slowly but without taking my gaze from them. “I am Liam Riordan, second son of the Riordan.”

Corell stares at me for a long moment before shifting his attention fully to Wren. “We have searched daily for you, daughter of Birdie Martin.”

Fearless, Wren rushes forward, stopped only by my hand on her upper arm. “You’ve seen my mother? Where is she?” There’s joy again in her voice.

I’ve missed that tone in the last few hours. Still, something doesn’t feel right. “Is Birdie in the forest?” I point toward the west.

Sorrow fills Corell’s eyes. “No. I wish my news were better, Wren. I will tell you how we came to know Birdie and how we lost her.”

“Oh my god. Is she dead?” Gripping her chest, she crumples. “I thought I’d feel it if she were dead.” She shakes her head, and tears run down her cheeks. She pounds her chest. “Nothing. There’s nothing. I still feel her here.”

I kneel and wrap my arms around her. My heart is near to ripping in two. I’ve failed in my duty, and I’ve lost a friend. Holding that aside, I comfort Wren.

Corell huffs a horsey sound, moves closer, and lowers his front legs. “Forgive me. I misspoke. The common language is rarely used among us. By lost, I meant, she is not with the centaurs any longer. I too feel she lives still.” He presses his palm to the center of his chest.

Lifting her face, Wren hiccups. “Not dead?”

He shakes his head.

It’s obvious that these creatures care about Birdie, and they’ve been searching for Wren. That’s hardly vicious or warmongering in the way the old stories describe their character. “Can you tell us what happened?”

Corell backs up a few paces, and all five sit back on their haunches.

With a heavy, trilling sigh, he begins. “When the dragon, Trocar, came, we defended our forest. The portal opened, and a human woman came through.

Her arrival distracted the dragon. He breathed his magic, but she escaped the push and pull of time.

“There was a battle, and finally, injured, Trocar flew away.

“Birdie thanked us for helping her. She told us of coming through with two others and that one was her daughter. She wanted to know if we’d seen you.

It was obvious to us that the magic had pushed you through time.

If you’d been sent back, we’d know of it, but if you were pushed forward, then your time here had not yet happened. ”

Gathering herself, Wren sits up straight. “Did my mother go into your forest or did she take another path?”

Lowering his head, Corell says, “I almost wish she had gone her own way.” He lets out a long breath. “We knew the elves here had moved on. We hoped you would come through and be reunited. She came with us into our trees and was our guest for more than half a moon.”

“What happened?” I have a tightness in my belly that usually warns of battle or bad news.

“Five days ago, some of our young were playing at the far side of the forest. There is a beach there where they can run and play. It used to be a safe place, but the witch queen built her tower on the bodies of the long dead. She draws power from that cursed place. All the young had been warned to stay off the beaches.”

Wren covers her mouth. “What happened?”

After a long silence, Wellon says, “Six foals were taken by the shadow demons. Our kind can’t be turned, but they can be enslaved. They can be tortured.”

“I’m very sorry.” She brushes her tears away.

“Corell’s son was among those taken.” Wellon lowers his gaze at the sharp look from his leader.

Corell stares a long time at Wren. “The witch queen sent a message that she knew we harbored a human. She offered a trade.”

“You traded my mother for the children.” There’s no anger in Wren’s voice. She gives the centaur a watery smile. “I understand. You did what you had to do. Are they safe, the children?”

“I would not trade lives in such a way, daughter of Birdie. It goes against the light to sell a life even if it is to save six. We would have told the evil one no.” His breath comes fast and hard, as if he’s holding in a torrent of emotions.

“I don’t understand.” If they didn’t make the trade, then where is Birdie?

“When Birdie Martin heard of our young in the hands of the witch queen, she was deeply saddened and angry. As soon as the trade offer came, she said she would go to save our young ones. She wouldn’t listen to reason.

I told her the witch queen would turn her into a soulless wraith who lives only to do evil at the witch queen’s command.

I tried to talk her out of making such a decision.

She went to the witch queen’s shadow demons, and the young were returned. ”

It might be the only time I’ve heard of Venora keeping her word. I wonder if she worries the centaurs will come out of their forests. She wasn’t ready for a long standoff against forces so large, even with her evil magic.

Wren stands, and before I can stop her, she walks to him. She wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him. “My mother’s entire life has been about caring for children. You could not have changed her mind.”

Tears streak like small rivers down Corell’s face. After a long minute, he hugs Wren back then drops his hands. “You are as kind as your mother. I ask your forgiveness, though I don’t deserve it.”

As though realizing she’s created an awkward moment, Wren steps back. “You’ve done nothing to warrant forgiveness. However, if you need it, you have it. Can you tell us where this black tower is?”

I stand and clear the emotions from my throat. “Will you help us rescue Birdie?”

“I do not know if such a thing is possible, Liam, son of Elspeth.” Corell stands and runs his hands over his face, wiping away his sorrows. “My son is safe, as are the others. If you have a way to save Birdie, the centaurs will listen.”

“If you can tell me everything you know about the black tower, perhaps we can make a plan together, Corell of the Western Centaurs.” Part of me expects him to decline.

Adhar caws loudly and wings west toward the woods.